One Ring
by lash
Summary: The One Ring muses as Gollum leads it back to its master.


Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or situations depicted herein. Nor is any profit made from this online publication. The characters and situations belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. No copyright infringement is intended. 

Title: One Ring

Author: l.ash

Rating: R

Central Character: Ring

Warning: Sauron/Ring, Gollum/Ring 

(I guess that means slash?)

**One Ring**

There is one ring to rule them all; one ring to find them; one ring to bring them all; and in the darkness bind them. I am the _one ring_, born of a hatred deep, an all consuming rage for life, for good. Great kings of men quake with fear at the mention of me, and elves shudder and turn away; there is not one thing wholesome or good in this world that does not fear me. And it is just as well, for _He_ wanted me this way. 

I live only to please _Him_, for it is _He_ who made me, _He_ who loves me. And only _Him_ I will love in return. All others will fall before me, will shake and tremble and consternate at their own helplessness, at their own mortality. 

Even the elves, wise and pure, and immortal most of all- even they will know my wrath. Even they shall find that their _immortality_, as they like to call it, is frail. Death is as swift to kiss them away from this earth as he is to any man, as swift to lower his blade of damnation and accusation- and mocking- to their necks as any other. 

Death does not fear them, those elves and men, and _hobbits_ that seek to destroy my master, my love. No, Death fears none of them; but me… Me, he does fear. He knows that he cannot catch me, cannot clutch me with his claws like smoldering birds of fire, squawking out rage and the spittle of desire for these great forbidden fruits. Over Death, I have power. 

And over life, too, will I reign. I will be my master's right hand man, his only confidante, his most prized possession. _He_ will love me like no other, and I will reward him with all that he may ask of me, for I too will love _Him_. I will allow _Him_ to rule over me, for my love is so great. 

But my hatred… that is even greater, or had you no idea? I want to return to my master, yes _Lord Elrond_ speaks true. Isildur, had he been wise, would have known so- he would have known that my master was not dead, and that I would bend all to my will, would force their love for me and mold them into creations of my very own. Then I would betray them, kill them for thinking that I was _their_ precious, that I would allow _their_ rule over me, as if _they_ were worthy. 

No, none are so worthy as my master, _He_ who loved me so much to create me. _He_ who hated so much as to need me, to bestow all of his gifts onto me, his passions that any other _wholesome_ soul would call vile, he gave them all to me, and in return…In return I would give him the world. 

_One ring to rule them all_. 

I, as I have told you time and again, it is I who holds power over all creation. I bear the power to create. I bear the power to destroy. 

**_What would _you_ do for such power, my dear Gollum? Would you kill for your precious?_**

Do as I say, I will be yours, and yours alone, forever. Or, until the time is right, as you should well know by now. But you don't know much, do you? You don't know much of anything anymore. I've poisoned your mind, drove you mad with dark desire, with a lust for my hatred and my spite and my power. I made you kill for me, Gollum, and you'd only just set your eyes on me. What, now, would you do for me, after five hundred long years?

You would do anything for me, for your precious, and I count on it. I whisper to you, at night, in your mind. I am always on your mind, your first true love, reckless, wanton lust seeping into your every thought, and you cannot eat, or sleep because it. I am always there, haunting your footsteps, a moonlight dance, soft tap, tap, tapping of the one who got away. 

You fool, to have let me slip through your grasp so! You fool to have had love, to have had everything in the world there is to want, the fresh warmth of my body wrapped around you tightly, squeezing, screaming, and you cannot breathe from the rush of it all. You let me go. And will I never again touch you _that_ way until you moan, and pant, and your knees buck under you, and all you can do is lie wasted in your dirty little cave… stroking me? 

Your… _precious_. 

Will I fade away, and leave you to twist the ring that no longer lay on your finger, writhing for a different reason? Because of the pain of it all, because I will haunt your steps forever in your mind, always so close that you can see me, feel me… but never have me. Do you have enough left of your sanity to lose anymore?

_One ring to find them._

One ring to find anything; because I can, you know. I can find everything in the darkest corners of your heart and mind, the places you don't dare to look, because you know without a doubt that's where you've swept all of your dirt, as you say. 

**_Did you know, Gollum, that I can find guilt there, in the darkest crevices of your mind? Did you know that I know everything?_**

You're not quite as far gone as everyone likes to think; (_likes_ because it's easier, and that's what I supply). No, you have enough wits about you, to crawl and skitter, and shrink into the shadows. You know enough to turn away. 

But you're bound to me, and I made you promise. I will hold you to your promise, Gollum, because I do not take kindly to betrayers. You will lead me onwards to _Him_, my love, and you will fight. 

_Oh_. And you will fight deliciously. But I will win in the end, because I always do, and when that time comes, I'd wager you already know your fate. That is why you fight, so that you will not perish at his blade, your little hobbit; or that you will not perish at the gates of my master. 

No, you are not quite so far gone. But you will be. 

It doesn't matter what _they_ think, my nasty little creation, because _you_ know. If blade does not snap at you with jaws wide- as wide as they were when you attempted to devour _me_, and make me your own- oh, I will. 

I will shred your mind slowly, torturously, and you will wish that you did not fight me at all. You will wish that you never found me, though I suppose that you do that already. My Gollum, my dastardly little devil, my beautiful creation… See how I've marred your mind, have dissected you inch by gloriously painful inch while you screamed and writhed and _wriggled_ under my touch? Do you see how beautiful you have become?

Do you anticipate what I will do to you soon, my pretty? 

I do. And I fill up just thinking about it, waiting and throbbing with anticipation. I call out to my master sometimes, that he might touch me with his presence and relieve this ache in me, and it makes me tingle all over, and grow heavy with abandon. 

The hobbit feels it, do you know? He feels that you fill me this way, make me call out to my master impatiently and beg him to touch me as he used to. Do you know that you do this to me, Gollum? Do you know that you strengthen us when you fight, that you only follow me closer to your doom? 

_One ring to bring them all._

And bring them I shall. I will lead them to the heels of my master and then I will take them out to play. They will beg me for mercy and I will laugh, and I will be sated in the end. I will bring them _all_. 

**_But you first, my delicious little Gollum._****_ Always you first, for it is you, above all else, who deserves my touch. Especially when you begged so prettily for it._**

Though, I don't suppose that you will beg for more than mercy once I've started.  When I have my master, I will no longer touch you the way you want me to. I will have my lover, and that will be everything I need to quench this fire that I feel inside of me. 

You could never do that for me, Gollum. I was always your whore. I would please you and please you, but never once did you grant me just a _little_ of the euphoria that I had given to you. You were sated- for a time- and you were done with me. 

But how the tables have turned. How I _do_ enjoy torturing you, my pet. I love the way your hands reach, gray and crackled, and fingers bent unnaturally from all the times that I'd broken them and forced them to set- though you don't know that, do you? I love the way your big, ugly eyes bulge away from your sallow skin sunken down to your heavy skull, and you pout, lips wavering, eyes watering… and you call me out- _Precious! Precious!_

It is almost enough for me to forgive you. 

Though… I don't forgive, and you deserve nothing _but_ my touch, Gollum. You deserve to have me wrapped around you, squeezing so tight you think I'll snap you right in half- though I'd never do that; (too easy)- and screaming, mad with my glee. You deserve to have me touch you until you fall, sobs catching in your throat hoarse from screeching my name, panting, gasping, clutching at me. You deserve to have your knees buckle under you, lightheaded and damn near drowning in your own juices. 

Don't you think you deserve my touch, Gollum? I'll make you woozy on a natural high, and you can scrape your bitten fingernails against jagged rocks until you bleed, and… convulse. I'll never stop touching you until you think you're going to die, and I'll bring you back, holding you on the edge of climax until your sobs are only whimpers, and you can't remember your own name anymore, and you reek of sweat. Until you stink, but you really just don't care because I'm lying right there beside you, (or on top of you, depending on my mood). I'll touch you until you die, Gollum. I promise. 

_And in the Darkness bind them._

Yes. Oh, yes, _oh._ Bind them to _Him_, my master, my lover. Bind them to _Him_ as I am bound to him. I will make them see the darkness of the night, the sweet music that will poison their very souls, haunt them like ghost tunes until they die, having them cowering in fear of me… and _Him_. I will show them true binds, as only they will know them forevermore. 

**_And I'll forget about you, Gollum. Unless of course, it's to laugh- as I'll remember so many others._**

You don't think you are the only one, do you Gollum? You don't think that you were my first creation, do you? If you do, you are sorely mistaken. 

No, _He_ was my first creation, as I am _His_ precious. The tales go that it was _He_ who made me in the fires of Mount Doom, but to tell a tale untrue is to betray yourself. Let it be known, Gollum, that it was I, the _one ring_, who created the Dark Lord. 

Yes, yes. _He_ brought me out of darkness, he gave to me form, a shape. All of that is true. But it is _I_ who truly made _Him_. I am not at all despaired to tell you that _He_ would be nothing without me, because it is true. Speak _His_ name in hushed whispers, and I will stand proudly on the sidelines, lurking in the shadows, seeping into everyone's souls. 

_He_ was my first creation, Gollum. _He_ was my most beautiful. I perfected my art in _Him_, and I will never make another like _Him_. Not even you will come close, Gollum, I would never allow you to. 

My master, he is my lover, my first, my child protégé. I am malice, my pretty little pet, amongst many other things, and _He_ is my embodiment. How beautiful we are together- absolute perfection, so much so that there can never be another, that is how I made him, and that is how _He_ made me. 

I am precious to _Him_, don't you know? The ring of power, the _one ring_. I am master of all creation. I have the power to create, and the power to destroy. 

I created you, Gollum, and you should be honored that I saw you fit to do my bidding, that I saw you fit to mold to my liking. Isn't that the greatest honor you have known in your pathetic little life, you wretched thing? But you're not precious to me- is that why you weep? 

_Oh._ Do not worry, Gollum. You may not be my precious, but you do come in second. There. You should be honored, now, after all of the things I've said to you. And no, that won't change the fact that I will enjoy unmaking you, because you _did_, after all, try to make me yours alone. But I belong only to _Him_. He made me… 

The _one ring_. 


End file.
